All Choked Up
by lightamatchtoleavemebe
Summary: Watching her, out there on the dance floor, it brought back memories. He just wanted her back in his life.


Wow, I just had to write this.

Enjoy~

* * *

She was the burning light coming from the space between normality and insanity, and he.

He was the frozen icicle on the side of the warn out building you've passed by so many times, but never questioned.

You had no reason to, you knew what you wanted.

It was the exact same feelings he had for her, the beauty smiling on the dance floor.

How he felt for this girl was indescribable, he wanted her in his arms, her frail arms wrapping around his neck as they leaned into each other.

He knew they could never work from the start; they were just too dissimilar.

Some said that was a good thing, he never really thought so.

Still, those thoughts were still burning in the back of his mind, hidden and tucked behind fake smiles.

He wanted her to rhythmically sashay into his dull life once more, to make him happy once more.

She was the brightness that came with the sun and he was the burnt out light bulb, desperate to feel needed.

_Opposites really attracted each other_, he thought, studying his dear girl.

He remembered the feeling of his thumbs pressing into her hips, the soft murmurs that were released through her impossibly perfect mouth, the laughs they pressed against each other's chest after their moments of intimacy.

He loved the shade of her naturally wavy hair, the chestnut brown just accentuated her small face, and her eyes were daggers.

That's what anyone would notice about her, the eyes of death she only gave you when she really liked you.

He missed her, that he did.

He had no idea what he did for her to break up with him the very last time.

His stomach dropped in a painful way, especially standing there, in the shadows, thinking of their several break ups.

The first few times they broke up over dumb arguments.

It was normal, they were sixteen.

Arguing about what movie to watch was pretty common, he guessed.

The second set of breakups were more upsetting.

The topic of sex was the main issue.

He wanted it, and so did she.

Until they were finally unclothed and she shook abnormally, looking away from him and his gentle face.

He persuaded her though, and soon she loved it.

Sure, she was a tough cookie, but he managed to dig a hole into her heart, permanently causing her to blurt out his name in the heat of the moment with other people.

That's where the third set of breakups came in at.

They had gotten tired of each other at age twenty-one, only wanting a new experience. For him, it meant gambling and various men.

For her, it meant rebelling, taping her adventures with other women and men for him to watch.

They pretty much wanted to slit the other's throat, sadly enough.

But they got through it.

Or at least, he thought.

And that's where the fourth set of breakups appeared, the final leg of their relationship.

The point of no return.

The only time they talked was after making the other cry, after screaming and yelling at each other.

He often thought a kiss to her temple would make up for his mistakes.

It worked in the movies, why wouldn't it work with them?

His logic failed him on that one.

He remembered the very last fight, she was going on and on about something that he did, and he thought grabbing her and passionately kissing her would be the answer.

Nope. It wasn't.

She looked back at him and her 'doe in the headlights' eyes were tired and sad; she opened her mouth as if to release repressed thoughts but second guessed it.

Instead, she kicked him out.

* * *

That red dress was his favorite.

It's not like he was stalking her or anything, they just happened to be in the same place at the same time, and he.

He really wanted to see how she was.

After all, they hadn't talked for years.

He hadn't seen her since they were twenty-six.

He was thirty-two now, and if his memory served him right, she would be about ready to celebrate her own birthday.

Is that what she was doing, celebrating?

He couldn't remember, he only focused on the body-hugging tight curve of the dress.

He remembered how it felt underneath him, sliding across his fingertips as they kissed.

Her missed her.

But most of all,

he needed a drink.

* * *

"One of every thing on the menu, please," he said, sulking into a bar stool.

He just wanted to get out of there.

"Whoa, hold on, there, kiddo," the girl said slowly. "Not trying to get alcohol poisoning, are we?"

He nodded. What was the point?

She asked what was wrong.

He told her.

She asked if he wanted her opinion.

He nodded.

"Either forget about her, or go out there and ask her to dance. Not that complicated."

It all clicked with him.

The world renowned scientist was finally getting the formula.

Kiss and makeup, you dumbass!

He chugged the shot the bartender set down, smiling triumphantly.

"Not yet, dude."

* * *

He marched over to where she was dancing with another women, and forcefully tapped on her shoulder.

She turned around and her mouth dropped.

"Will you dance with me?" He rushed it out, but she rushed a nod. It was only fair.

"Good," he grinned, leading her small frame onto the dance floor.

* * *

"I've missed you," she whispered into his shoulder.

"I missed you too," he said, tilting her chin up.

"We're stupid, you know that?"

"Are you sure about this?" He was still in shock he actually had the guts to come up to her, let alone dance with her.

"I am if you are."

So he smiled and slipped the ring onto her slim finger, finalizing the engagement.

They still had a lot to learn about their new selves, but they wanted to do it together.

That's all that mattered.


End file.
